


Could Be Worse

by Brinchestiel



Series: Destiel Drabbles, Prompts, One-shots, IDK. [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Castiel/Dean Winchester Flirting, Christmas Shopping, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Strangers, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 01:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6449215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brinchestiel/pseuds/Brinchestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the wonderful leviathncas on Tumblr, who provided me with the following prompt:<br/>"It could be worse."</p><p>Dean's day was going so well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could Be Worse

** Could Be Worse **

****

Tinny Christmas music blares over the mall speakers, but Dean can’t find it in himself to grit his teeth against it. It’s a week until Christmas, and he’s just finished the last of his Christmas shopping.

Oh yeah, watch him strut. Mr Christmas himself, got his shit together. Suck it, Santa.

He struts himself straight into the glass lift, smiling at the guy already stood in there, surrounded by grocery bags, before pressing the button for the parking lot. He bounces on his heels, throwing the man a tight smile as the doors close. His smile tightens still as the lift begins its decent but shudders to a halt again seconds later.

“Uh oh,” says the man.

“Shit,” says Dean, peering out of the glass walls to see himself suspended four floors up, the ground floor so far away and simply not getting any closer.

_Please no, please god, no._

“Is it… Fuck, are we-“

“Come on!” Dean curses, hitting the metal doors of the elevator and cursing through clenched teeth as soon as he does. That was a bad idea. He cradles his fist in his other hand, braving another look over the edge. His stomach feels like it falls right out of his butt.

Dean has always hated heights.

He braces himself against the glass wall behind him as he shakily makes his way to the floor, desperately trying to ignore the fact that that is also glass. He watches his companion do the same with a shaky breath.

“You doin’ okay, bud?” Dean offers, seeing in the man a reflection of himself; pale face, wide eyes, heaving breath. He nods his response, eyes shifting all around the lift.

“Should we… we should probably press the um-“

“Alarm button, yeah you’re right,” Dean agrees, but the emergency button is so high up, and now he’s safe on the floor of the elevator, he doesn’t want to be any higher than he already is, thank you very much.

“Christ,” Grocery Bags replies under his breath, reaching a trembling hand up above him to press the button. The ringing sound in the tiny elevator is unbearably loud, but the distorted voice of the woman on the other end is even worse.

It sounds a lot like she says “umphflabaranuuuubu” and Dean’s companion turns an exasperated look on him that makes Dean snort.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, but we’re stuck in the elevator,” the man shouts, craning his head back since he’s still sat on the floor, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the glass floor.

“Ackflackmagak” says the woman.

“What?” Dean shouts, “Actually don’t answer that, just get us out of here!”

“We’re in between floors three and four,” Man Also Stuck in Elevator supplies helpfully, “um, West wing?”

Dean nods.

“West wing,” blue eyes repeats.

Click, goes the speaker.

“Did she… did she just hang up on us?”

“Hey!” Dean yells, as if the mysterious woman would somehow be able to hear him.

“Did it work? Is someone coming for us?”

“I don’t know,” Dean groans, rubbing his face with his calloused hands. He really hopes so.

“I’m Castiel by the way.”

Dean peeks through his fingers, offering a small smile, “Dean.”

* * *

They sit, legs sprawled in the tight space, eating grapes that Castiel produces from one of his bags of groceries. They make small talk too. Dean learns that Castiel lives alone, a small apartment in the nice part of town, and works at the local library. Castiel hums around another grape when Dean mentions he’s a mechanic, but Dean can’t tell if it’s sarcastic or not. He says as much. Castiel grins, it’s gummy and it’s bright. It’s contagious.

“I find it very interesting, I certainly couldn’t do it. My car breaks every other week.”

“You know what’s wrong with it?”

Castiel levels him with a bitch-face that has them both chuckling, “Do I look like someone who knows why their car refuses to function?”

Dean shrugs, “Bring it over to the garage some time, I’ll take a look.”

“Thank you,” Castiel replies, sounding genuinely pleased, “I will.”

“And maybe, if you play your cards right, I’ll fix you up with a discount,” Dean winks, and he instantly kicks himself mentally. Being suspended in a glass elevator four floors up is bad enough, but making the atmosphere uncomfortable with casual flirting? What the hell is he-

“I’ll be sure to bear that in mind, Dean.”

_Huh. Who knew?_

Dean, feeling a little adventurous, lets his leg roll to the side, knocking gently against Castiel’s. He feels a little thrill when he feels that leg press back.

“Well,” Dean says, rubbing the back of his neck, “if someone told me that my Christmas shopping bonanza would end up getting trapped in a lift, I’d tell them to shut their damn pie hole.”

Castiel shrugs, holding Dean’s gaze with a gentle expression on his face, “It could be worse.”

Dean grins wolfishly, “Yeah? How so?”

“I could be stuck in here with someone not nearly as handsome,” Castiel cocks his head to the side, breaking their eye contact to stare resolutely at his hands bunched in his lap.

Dean nudges his foot against Castiel’s hip, “Shameless flattery will get you everywhere.”

Castiel snorts, raising his eyes to Dean’s again. He breathes in several times, like he’s going to say something, but he keeps swallowing it back. Dean just waits patiently, holding his gaze, a challenge. Castiel shakes his head with another huff of laughter, heaving himself up onto all fours and Dean’s ability to breathe checks out entirely.

Dean never thought he’d be one to do it in a lift, a lift with glass walls and a glass floor, a lift that is suspended far too high in the air, but hey, first time for everything right?

Castiel crawls over him, and Dean can’t stop grinning, letting his eyes fall closed and leaning forwards to capture Castiel’s lips all the quicker.

Sadly, no dice. A loud ringing sounds throughout the tiny elevator, and it shudders to life. Castiel loses his balance, all but falling into Dean’s lap. The wide-eyed look on his face is enough to shock a laugh from Dean. It’s also super effective at killing the sexual tension they’d built between them.

Whether he does it in encouragement, or as a comfort, Dean will never know, but he reaches out and runs his hands down Castiel’s arms, still framing his hips.

He then decides to boop the fully grown man on the nose. Lord, help him.

They chuckle, a little breathless, helping one another to standing. The more floors that pass, the sadder Dean feels.

“Hey,” he says, wrapping his hand around Castiel’s wrist when they reach the parking lot. He can’t be sure he didn’t imagine Castiel’s shoulders relaxing with the sigh that passes his lips.

“Dean?”

Dean digs in his pocket for his phone, before thrusting it into Castiel’s hands. _Phew, those are some good hands_ , his brain supplies unhelpfully.

“You wanna give me your number? Maybe… maybe we could go out some time,” Dean says, feeling his face heat.

There’s that irresistible grin again, all straight teeth and sunshine.

“I’d love to.”


End file.
